Come Back to Me
by cvh90
Summary: My take on the thoughts crossing each of their minds, after THAT moment in the med tent in episode 3. Oneshot currently, but possibly more :)
1. Chapter 1

"Come back to me".

Four small words. Anyone could have said 'em. But it was him, and so they echoed inside her head constantly. If she closed her eyes tight enough, she could feel the roughness of his skin against hers, the soothing motion of his thumb circling hers. She could see the thousand unspoken things swimming just behind his eyes, unspoken things that might have been spoken if Kinders hadn't come charging into the med tent seconds later. And so, instead of knowing, she dared to dream of what more he could have said, what more might have happened without the interruption.

Sometimes she wondered if it was just him being a good soldier, a good captain, making his soldiers feel valued and part of a team. But more often she hoped those four little words meant that he felt the same way she did.

…

"Come back to me".

Four small words. Anyone could have said them. But it was him, to her, and they echoed inside his head constantly. Had he given too much of himself away in those moments? He was on his fourth tour of Afghan, an Army man dyed khaki through and through, and yet he was risking everything he had ever worked for on a few throwaway glances and the electric whisper of skin on skin. She challenged his expectations of her every day, and every day she rose beyond them. Slowly and surely, what had started as exasperation at her constant cheekiness and disregard for rules and regulations, had developed into a begrudging acceptance, and then again into a not so begrudging fondness. And now, as he watched her stumble towards the waiting helicopter, his heart was in his mouth, and he realised it wasn't truly his heart anymore. He hadn't known until now how much he had meant those four small words.

_Come back to me._


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **_So, part 2. I have been inspired by all your lovely comments, these genuinely interesting characters, and just generally the gripping drama of it all. Also, I needed to do something to help me get over the shock of the ending last night! Please review and let me know what you think, happy reading :)_

* * *

A loud whirring in the skies above alerted Captain James to the imminent arrival of the helicopter, and with it the two returning members of his section. The words of the Afghan captain beside him melted into nothingness as he clapped him on the shoulder and took off towards the gate of the compound, the pit of his stomach suddenly alight with anticipation. As he ran up the steps of the battlement, James tried to conceal his smile; the delighted cheers from 2 Section could only mean that Dawes and Smurf had returned in one piece. _Apparently, literally in one piece. _

"He's been hanging out her back doors all R&amp;R believe me", Mansfield whooped loudly.

"What's that?" James snapped.

_Pleaseletmehavemisheardthatpleasesaythey'vegotitwrongpleasepleaseplease._

"Well have a look! We said goodbye to the boy and hello to the man sir."

_Ohfuck._

As the bile rose in this throat, James turned on his heel, wanting to put his men behind him for a moment, wanting to forget what he had just heard. He stormed towards his tent, shedding his protective gear as he went. Knowing he wouldn't be able to avoid the welcome back, James knew he needed to give himself enough time to calm down, to put his captain's face on, to avoid betraying himself. He told himself that his anger was about the irregularity of the situation, about the bending of the rules, the breaking of army protocol. It definitely, absolutely wasn't about the breaking of his heart.

* * *

Clouds of dust billowed around their feet as they pounded towards the gate. As they drew nearer, Molly tried to tell herself that the butterflies in the pit of her stomach were about making it into the compound in one piece. But when the gate swung shut behind her and Smurf, and the fluttering only got worse, she knew it was something more.

_Whereishewhereishewhereishe._

Within seconds of dropping the rucksack from her back, Molly felt herself being scooped in the arms of her comrades. They were delighted to see her, and she was delighted to see them in one piece. But still _whereishewhereishe. _

Finally, after pulling eye drops and boxers and Marmite and all the other miscellaneous shit she had been charged with bringing home (funny that she now thought of Afghan as her home), she glanced up and saw the one person she had really been looking for since she left English soil. And he did not look happy. This was not the same man who had so gently inscribed the name of that _bloody coffee_ on her arm, who had inscribed his name on her heart. That moment in the med tent, when anything had seemed possible, suddenly seemed a lifetime ago.

"Alright boss?", she offered him a tentative smile, hoping that it would hide the emotion she felt sure was written all over her face; the mixture of hope, and longing, and _Christ_ the love she had for her captain. Now, in front of all their colleagues, she knew was not the time to ask him what was going on.

"Alright Dawes," came the straight-faced, less than friendly reply. As James explained they would return to Bastion, Molly only felt her discomfort grow. Something had changed between them, and it seemed the flirty banter that had come so easily between them before had been left behind with that change.

* * *

As she handed over with Jackie, Molly was glad of a few moments to gather her thoughts. Two weeks away from Afghan had only served to strengthen her feelings for James, but it seemed two weeks away from her had only done the opposite for him. She ran through Jackie's notes as she mulled over in her mind what could have happened In her absence to make the captain seem so distant. The story of Mansfield's latest mishap provided only a split second of distraction however, before _his _voice cut in, making her jump.

Once the other medic and her escort had left the tent, James seemed to relax slightly. Despite the crossed arms and serious expression, Molly thought his face had softened, almost imperceptibly. Very imperceptibly. He gave little away when she asked after him, and barely acknowledged it when she told him she was glad to be back. It was only when she mentioned his new boots and those sodding blisters that he gave himself away. _Gotcha. You do care still_, she thought, as she watched him scramble to cover his error.

And when he said, "Are you really glad to be back?", she knew for sure that the game wasn't yet over.

Molly tried to pour everything she felt for him, tried to remind him of his request and her promise in that same tent two weeks ago, when she told him she _wanted _to come back. Rewarded with a sudden twitch at the corner of his mouth, and a slight sparkle in his eyes, her hopes soared for a moment.

And then Kinders – _bloodyEggyalwayssoddinginterrupting _– yelled, "Oi Molly, you went to bloody Newport and you weren't a hostage?!" She laughed at first, thinking little of it.

Then James asked, "You went to Newport?", and she saw that little light in his eyes vanish. In an instant she realised what he must be thinking, but then the boys stormed in, and he stormed out, and it was too late to explain, and she was left thinking only one thing.

_I've lost him already. Oh fuck._


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **A little longer gap between updates this time but I hope it's worth it! It has come out rather longer than intended, but I felt inspired so kept going. Thankyou to everyone who has read and reviewed this so far, it means more than you know to read your thoughts, as its been so long since I felt able to write before this story came along. I guess all that's left to say is I hope you enjoy this chapter too, and fingers crossed the final episode tonight isn't too devastating!

* * *

He smoothed the edges of the letter between his fingertips, the gentle motion soothing his frayed nerves. The childish, untidy scrawl on the page matched his own handwriting perfectly, and he smiled wryly to himself. Not only did he write like a seven-year old boy, it appeared he sometimes behaved like one too – all possessiveness and jealousy and throwing his toys out the pram when something didn't go his way. If anything, his son in fact behaved better than he did. Jack had coped so well with the separation, sometimes confused and a little more sad than normal, but still the same boy that loved trains and trucks and dressing up in his daddy's combat uniform. Passing a tired hand over his eyes, the Captain began to read.

_Daddy Daddy Daddy!_

_ Mummy told me you mite be coming home soon, in time for Santa to be here! She says you are getting a new house to live in, but that I can come and live with you there sometimes. Mummy and me are going to live in Mummy's friend's Tim's house. She says it is a big house and it will even fit all my trains and truks in my room. I asked her if you could come and live there sometimes too, I think I said it wrong cos then she looked a bit sad and then she sed you and Mummy don't love each other the same anymore. I think that is really sad, but then she said even if you don't love each other, you both still love me warever I live so that's OK. _

_Mummy ses that I am being very brave and that means Daddy that I am just like you. I think when I grow up I want to be a solja like you and keep being brave. I told Mummy and that made her cry a little bit too. I gave her a tissue and a majik sloppy kiss and then she did a smile. Tim made Mummy smile too by doing a silly danse. I like it when Tim makes Mummy smile. Mummy ses maybe you will find a lady to make you smile soon. I hope you doo Daddy, yor smile is even nicer than Mummys but don't tell her I sed that. I have drorn you a pitcher to make you smile and be brave, it is you and mee in solja clothes together being big brave men. I have dun lots of kisses on the paper too, I am going to give you lots of kisses when you are back. I hope you are here for when Santa comes so he can find you to give you yor presents. I love you lots and lots all the way to the moon._

_Jack XXXXXXXXXXXX_

The words began to blur before his eyes, and James wiped the tears away roughly with his fist. His seven year old son, who was still so young and innocent, had unknowingly shown a better understanding of what truly mattered than James felt even he had recently. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself to read the note his soon to be ex-wife had attached.

_Matthew, _

_ Although I'm sure you can tell from his letter, I just wanted to let you know that Jack is fine and doing well. I thank god that he is so resilient, and seems so utterly unaffected by our separation. I hope you don't mind that I told him you would probably be home for Christmas, I know it was supposed to be a surprise, but he kept asking and asking, and it's so obvious how much he misses you. _

_ Thankyou for returning the papers so quickly, I know that you are very busy out there and have a thousand more important things on your mind. The lawyers seem to think that the divorce can be finalised before you even get home. I have packed all your things up as you asked, and I am taking them over to your parents' house tomorrow, on the way to moving into our new home. Tim's house is less than half an hour's drive from Bath, I am so glad because it will be easy for you to see Jack. I know that a lot of things have been said between us, and I am sorry that I did what I did and couldn't continue to support you and love you as you deserved, but I hope against hope that you can find someone soon who makes you feel the way Tim makes me feel. As our gorgeous son said, I hope you can find a woman who makes you smile again soon (even it is better than mine, the monkey!). You deserve that at least._

_ Keep safe, for Jack's sake._

_ Sarah._

James sighed in relief. The last time he had communicated with Sarah, it hadn't ended well, and he had felt bad about it for a long time afterward. Despite what she had done to him, she was still the mother of his child, and he wished he hadn't spoken to her the way he did – in truth, he hadn't been in love with her for years, even before she cheated and then left him in quick succession. In many ways, he didn't even really blame her for it; the military lifestyle was a difficult one, and it certainly wasn't for everyone. At least, judging from the tone of her note, they would be able to be civil, maybe even friendly, when he returned to England, for Jack's sake. She seemed happy at last, even enough to wish him the same good fortune their son did. If only they knew, he thought, that he had found someone that made him smile from the bottom of his heart. It was just a shame she was now further beyond his reach than ever.

* * *

Molly had never thought she'd say the words, but she was devastated to be returning to Bastion. Sure, it signified the successful completion of their mission, which she should be delighted about. Bashira was safe, for now at least, the local children were slowly returning to school, and the Afghan National Army were now in a position to take up 2 Section's responsibilities in the area, leaving the platoon to retreat to a far safer base in preparation for their impending return home. But returning to Bastion meant being surrounded by the rest of the British Army troops who were posted in Helmand, it meant that their tight knit little group and its camaraderie would become lost little fish again in the big pond. It also meant that she would be spending a whole lot less time in the vicinity of her Captain James, and Molly wasn't quite sure how she felt about that. Less opportunities for her eyes to be drawn helplessly towards him, and certainly less opportunities for that sick feeling in her stomach each time his now cold gaze slid straight past her – but also less opportunities for apologies and trying to make him see he'd got it wrong.

She closed her eyes briefly as the tank bounced and skipped through the dust, barely able to tolerate being in a confined space with the rest of her section; close enough to _him_ for their knees to be touching, and yet feel further apart from him than ever. Above her head, Smurf led the boys in a particularly cheery round of an old nursery rhyme, and she couldn't help thinking that she wished _the doors on the bus would open and shut, open and shut_ on his head. If that Welsh wanker had just been able to accept that her feelings for him ran no deeper than friendship, she would be feeling a whole lot cheerier right now.

Lost in her thoughts, when the tank suddenly screeched to a halt, Molly's heart jumped into her throat with the shock. _This can't be good_, she thought, as Smurf yelled down about the sheet in the road. She was already on her feet when James looked straight at her (_finally_) and issued his commands. Taking up her position in front of the tank, her rifle aimed steadily on the road ahead, Molly could feel her fear mounting rapidly. As James struck out ahead, the vallon in his hand swinging smoothly from side to side, each step more measured and cautious than the one ahead, a million images flashed through her head. _Any second_, she thought, _any second now, he could be gone in a bleedin' puff of smoke, and he still would fuckin' think that me an' Smurf were doing the dirty. He could die never knowin' what I feel, an' if he feels how I think he does, I will never forgive myself._

Before she even know what she was doing, she felt the rifle drop slightly in her arms, and the road moving swiftly beneath her aching feet. Molly could hear Kinders and Smurf and god knows who else yelling at her over the radio, cursing her stupidity, but all she could focus on was him. _I'm a soldier and I'm gonna bloody man up and be brave and tell him the truth, even if he bloody won't_, she told herself, as she drew up behind James. When he turned to face her, and she saw the barely concealed panic on his face, Molly knew. _Gotcha_, she thought. Even if he didn't admit it to her himself, his expression had given him away. It made it all that easier to pour her heart out to him as they edged closer and closer to the sheet.

* * *

Molly almost thought she had known what he would answer after she asked him shakily if he loved her. But then that damn sheet had moved and a bloody hand had shot out, grasping blindly for something to hold onto, and it had been Sohail, and her medic training had kicked in, taken over as she battled to save the Afghan. In the terror of the next few frantic minutes, as the helicopter lifted the three of them out of there, Molly had almost forgotten what she had confessed barely moments before. At the camp hospital, she was too busy trying to question Sohail and establish what had happened to let her personal feelings come to the forefront, until that finger had pointed to her, until Sohail, with his dying moments, had highlighted her as the Taliban's true target.

When she turned to face James, cheeks wet with tears she hadn't even realised she had shed, and seen the pure fear she felt mirrored on his face, she remembered. And despite the terror of knowing that someone out there wanted her dead, someone who could easily have the power to get it done, her stomach fluttered with relief as well, because she was now sure of his feelings for her. When he pressed his forehead to hers, as if to anchor her safely to him, hands cupping her face protectively, she thought that whatever else might happen, at least she knew he loved her too.


End file.
